


Sun Dog

by MercuryPilgrim



Series: For the Sky [7]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, M/M, Malavai Quinn in Glasses, No Angst, Pierce is a dickhead, Sassy, Smut, Ven is a basic bitch, Vette is a good friend
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-15
Updated: 2019-09-19
Packaged: 2020-10-19 04:40:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20651348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MercuryPilgrim/pseuds/MercuryPilgrim
Summary: Ven'fir is feeling restless.One night stands and expensive benders are fun and all, but... wouldn't it be nice to have someone to come home to?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by how much I enjoyed writing chapter 18 of Droplets, which was a modern AU. I tweaked the premise a bit, and made a chaptered fic out of it. :)
> 
> Expect fluff, sass and exactly zero angst.

“I want to climb that man like a damned tree.”

  
Vette made a face, and sipped her cappuccino.

  
“That’s… nice.” She muttered, and wished her coffee was of the Irish variety. Maybe Russian, or Jamaican?

  
Her coffee companion sighed, his chin in his hands as he dragged his eyes over the barista in the tight jeans.

  
“He’s six inches shorter than you and like, half your mass, you’d crush him.” Vette continued, stirring another sugar into her drink. “And he’s got that stupid haircut.”

  
Ven’fir shot her a glare over his pumpkin spiced latte. “He does not. It’s… it’s fine.” He muttered, the artful birds nest he called his own hair falling into his eyes. Vette snorted in an unladylike way.

  
“He’s got that lumbersexual look going on.” She pointed out. “You tell me all the time how much you hate that.”

  
Ven’fir grunted. “I know.”

  
“And you don’t like big beards.”

  
“I know.”

  
“Or plaid. You’re allergic to plaid.”

  
“Vette, I _know_.”

  
“So,” she said primly. “You don’t want that one.”

  
Ven’fir looked sour. “Okay, maybe I don’t.” he cast his eyes around, amber assessing his fellow patrons.

“What about her? She’s cute.”

  
Vette wrinkled her nose. “I suppose. If you like that kind of thing.”

  
The man with her scowled. “What if I do?”

  
“But you don’t. Also, you’d be a cradle robber. She looks about eighteen. May I remind you the big three-oh is just around the corner?”

  
“Fucking hate you.” He growled, crossing his arms over his chest. Vette neatly ignored the way his arms looked when he did that. “Now I have gaze guilt.”

  
Vette grinned.

  
“You have to have a party though. Your parties are the best.” She wheedled, trying to cheer him up.

  
Ven’fir reluctantly grinned. “Yeah, they are.” He agreed. “I’m thinking a theme this year.”

  
“Old age?” Vette put forward innocently, and laughed at the look on his face. “You could go as _you_.”

  
“You’re so fucking funny. Also, uninvited.”

  
Vette laughed again. “No, I’m not. You adore me. Besides, it’s around your place and I love your place.”  
“You love my minibar and my television.”

  
“And your pool. I guess you’re okay too.” She smirked. “Seriously though, are you really still complaining about your sex life? You get laid more than anyone else I know, you whore.”

  
Ven’fir preened. “I know. It’s great. Well, not so much lately.” He admitted. “I dunno, it just seems to be boring. No… spark. No challenge, you know?”

  
Vette gave him a look.

  
“With these tits, getting any kind of sex is a challenge.”

  
“Some men like mosquito bites in a woman.” The dark-haired man assured, laughing when Vette threw a napkin ball at him.

  
“Thanks, asshole.” She shook her head, smiling. “You heard from your buddy, the creepy one who only wears black and eats people souls for a living?”

  
Ven’fir inhaled the scented steam from his pumpkin spice latte. He loved the autumn, where everything became pumpkin spiced. Vette said that made him ‘basic’, whatever that meant.

  
“Nox isn’t that creepy. Just a little... goth. A goth nerd. And he’s a barrister, Vette.” He reminded.

  
Vette waved an impatient hand. “Well, why don’t you do him?” She batted her eyelashes. “And since he’s blind, he doesn’t even have to look at you.”

  
Ven’fir shook his head, ignoring her comment. “I wish. He’s not into guys. Or girls. Or sex in general. Asexual, y’know?” He grunted. “And he’s not my type anyway. Too clever and knows it. Pfft, lawyers.”

  
Vette blinked. “Okay, what about that secretive, James Bond-esque one with the nice smile and the sexy, sexy voice? He’s everyone’s type who has eyes and ears. All hot and mysterious and… hot.”

  
Her companion laughed. “Been there, done that.”

  
Vette goggled. “When?” she demanded. “That’s not fair, when?”

  
Ven’fir shrugged. “Couple of times, whenever we fancied it really.” He admitted. “Best fuck I ever had, that.” He seemed pleased with the memory. “He’s seeing someone now though, I think. Cute, silly spiky hair and a love for red leather.” He smirked. “Besides, I don’t want to test my luck and wake up with a knife in my back or on some kind of no-fly list. I’m pretty sure I don’t even know his real name.”

  
“That pretty blonde lady you work with?” Vette tried, desperate.

  
“Lana? Love her voice, but she would kill me.” He said, making a face. “She already calls me an ‘animal’. And not the fun, sexy kind of animal either.”

  
“She’s not wrong,” Vette grumbled.

  
Ven’fir stretched, and Vette couldn’t help but let her eyes linger on the strip of skin that showed from under his overly expensive turtleneck.

  
“Work is shit,” she said suddenly, sipping her coffee. “The expedition got put off again.”

  
To his credit, her companion looked sympathetic. “Why? Was Dr. Ravage being an arse?”

  
She scowled. “No. Funding got cut for the expedition.” She said, waving her mug in annoyance. “That’s not fair! Even Talos is mad about it.”

  
Ven’fit chewed his lip. “You graverobbers should sell all the shit you bring back. That would make them jump.” He smirked.

  
Vette sighed, long suffering. “We are not grave robbers. We’re archaeologists.” She corrected. “And I would love to do just that. It would make up for my shitty pay.”

  
“Well, I could hardly- Oh. Oh, yes please.” Ven’fir trailed off, his eyes sliding around her to look at something over her left shoulder. From the look on his face and little smile, Vette could guess that ‘something’ was a ‘someone’.

  
“What is it?” she asked, interested. “Found another victim- I mean, romantic prospect?”

  
Ven’fir shushed her, staring over the rim of his mug, patterned with leaves and cheery pumpkin patterns.

“He’s leaning over, and that ass.” He breathed in wonderment. “Holy shit.”

  
Vette risked a peek over her shoulder and indeed, saw someone bending over a table. The table with the teenage girl, to be precise. She frowned. “Her boyfriend?” she asked, admitting that it was a nice ass.

  
“Maybe?” Ven’fir murmured, taking another sip of coffee. The man bending over straightened, much to their disappointment. He took a seat next to the girl, whose expression told them she was smitten. Ven’fir could see why.

  
Vette shook her head. “Nah, he’s too old. Look, he’s going grey.”

  
Ven’fir squinted. A flawlessly white shirt, V-neck jumper and smart pressed slacks, dark hair going silver at the temples and impeccably maintained stubble clinging to an angular jaw made him look slightly fussy and well kept. The pair of vaguely fashionable glasses perched on his nose gave him a scholarly air. Ven’fir blinked.

  
“Shit, looks like a teacher or something. From the university, I’d guess.” He muttered, baffled. “Where was he when I was at school?”

  
Vette snorted into her cappuccino. “You barely bothered turning up to your fancy school, remember?”

  
Ven’fir waved her off. “Have I ever told you about my appreciation for older men?” he asked her, grinning.

  
“Shit, if they’re older than you then they probably have one foot in the grave already.” She quipped, amused. “Go and talk to him, if you’re so interested.”  
Ven’fir hummed. “Be a bit weird though, wouldn’t it? You know, since he’s with someone right now.”

  
Vette shrugged. “Sucks to be you then, I suppose.”

  
The dark-haired man sighed and slumped in his chair. “Ugh, my life is so unfair.” He paused, surreptitiously staring. “I want to fuck those glasses off his face.” He sighed, ignoring Vette’s disgusted noise. “Like, hard enough to make him-“

  
“Lana is right, you’re an animal.” Vette hissed, her lip curling as she interrupted. “I can’t believe I hang out with you.”

  
Ven’fir cast her a glance, showing his teeth in a sharp grin. “I’m the best wingman you could ask for?” He got up from his chair and rolled his shoulders, chuckling. “Also, I buy you expensive coffee. Another cappuccino?”

  
She sniffed, sticking her nose in the air. “Yeah, go on then.” She gave him a look. “But I want hazelnut syrup in this one. And a millionaire’s shortbread.”

  
“My lady shall receive.” He smirked, giving an exaggerated little bow that she knew must have been used unironically before.

  
“If I’m gonna be a lady, you’ll have to marry me m’lord.” She pointed out, smiling.

  
He winked, roguish. “You’d only kill me for my money.” He teased and headed towards the counter with the intent of sourcing more caffeine.

  
Ven’fir lounged against the counter while the barista with the silly hair served a businesswoman some looking healthy tea thing that made him irrationally annoyed. Who drank tea at a coffee shop?

Pretentious assholes, that’s who.

  
He rattled off his order and was waiting for the barista to get his card machine working, when a voice came from behind him.

  
“Excuse me, may I get to the sugar?”

  
Ven’fir blinked and turned. He couldn’t believe his luck, the DILF he had been eyeing was behind him, looking expectantly out over the rims of those glasses Ven’fir wanted to see fucked off his face. He shot the man his best charming grin, and obligingly moved.

  
“Coffee not sweet enough?” he asked, and the man blinked, surprised.

  
“Oh, I ah- it’s not for me. I don’t drink the coffee here.” He said with a small, tight smile. “My student needs it.”

  
Ven’fir internally sighed. Okay, so maybe he wasn’t completely perfect after all.

  
“Oh?” he asked like he didn’t already know from visually molesting the man earlier. “Are you a teacher?”

  
“Professor.” He corrected absently, selecting a few separate sachets. “I lecture on mathematics at the university. I’m tutoring at the moment.”

  
Hm, a nerd. He could still work with that.

  
The man was just turning to make a slightly awkward exit, when Ven’fir caught him. “Hey, I don’t suppose you want to catch a drink sometime?” he asked, hopeful. The man seemed deeply surprised. Pink decorated his cheeks, and his expression was such honest confusion that Ven’fir felt the odd urge to hug this stranger, and not just to cop a feel.

  
“I… I’m not sure that would be a good idea.” The object of his desire managed, awkward and fussy. “I don’t know you, and you don’t know me.”

  
“Isn’t that the point of a date, though?” Ven’fir tried to convince him. “To get to know each other? Hey, if you decide you hate me, you don’t ever have to call me again. I won’t be offended.” He offered, flashing that charming smile that always worked.

  
“Thank you for the offer,” he began, stiff and formal to cover his obvious discomfort. “But no thank you.”

  
Ven’fir sighed, a little surprised. “Alright.” He murmured, disappointed. “Hey, if you change your mind?” he said, quickly fishing a half dead pen from the counter and penning his number on a napkin. “Call me? My name is Ven’fir.”

  
The man accepted the napkin with a blush. “… Malavai.” He murmured, before returning awkwardly to his table, frowning as his student began firing questions at him, her eyes lingering on Ven’fir.

  
He sighed, accepting the drinks from the bored barista and heading back to Vette. She saw his disappointed face and tutted in sympathy.

  
“Rejected?” she asked, tactful as always. He scowled and thrust her sweet treat in her direction.

  
“I gave him my number, so I don’t think it counts as-“

  
“Get over it. It happens to us mere mortals pretty often,” she said, looking at him sharply over the rim of her hazelnut cappuccino. “Besides, he looked boring and stuffy.”

  
Ven’fir shrugged. “Hot, though.”

  
Vette wrinkled her nose. “I guess? If you like the type of guy who can’t have a hair out of place, and who wears sweaters over shirts. I can hear him telling kids to stay off his grass already.”

  
Ven’fir couldn’t help but smile at her disgusted tone. She could always cheer him up.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ven spots a familiar arse.

Enough time had gone by that Ven’fir had completely forgotten about the pretty stranger he had eyed up in the campus coffee shop, having given up on waiting for a text or call after a few days.

  
Instead he found himself in a bar, bored out of his mind.

  
The music was decent, but the company was less so. He had come out as a favour to the owner of the club on its opening night, and his presence was enough to coax along some extra clientele. The young heir sighed, sipping on something sour and strong. He grimaced; he preferred a nice cocktail, something fruity and pretty with a ton of sugar. Right now, though, he needed the bitterness of the drink in front of him to keep him awake. People came up to him, but his attitude was sour enough to drive them away quickly enough.

  
The club was full of the young and rich, and it was grating on his nerves. Of course, he was young and rich too, but he felt little but disdain for these twittering little idiots, falling over themselves to impress each other. Ven’fir had gotten over that phase a long time ago. He didn’t need to try to impress anyone, it was just natural.

  
He sighed and checked his watch.

  
Not quite an acceptable time to bail. How annoying. He would rather be home right now, finishing his book with a glass of wine and his cats on his lap. Vette was right, he was getting old. He liked a night of debauchery and booze as much as the next person, but tonight he just wasn’t feeling it. He sighed and turned to the bartender, who was the picture of professionalism, and was about to order something just as horrible as what he had just finished, when he saw a familiar face. Or rather, a familiar backside.

  
Not entirely certain if he was correct (and not willing to test his hunch in case he wasn’t), he surreptitiously pretended to look at the drinks menu, despite having already memorised it an hour ago.

  
The owner of the magnificent backside turned and faced the bar, and Ven’fir felt his stomach flop a little with victory. The DILF was back, and alone. It must be fate. With a grin that would have put a hyena to shame, he sidled over to the sullen looking man whose name he had already forgotten.

  
M-something was looking tired and annoyed, his expression such potent disdain, Ven’fir could have bottled it. He seemed to be asking after someone, but the bartender just shrugged and shook her head.

  
“So, fancy meeting you here.” He started with, smiling. M-something turned, something nasty on the tip of his tongue. He spotted who it was however, and the retort died before he could speak it. Ven’fir noted that he didn’t seem as placid as before and looking rather fetching when he was annoyed. It made his cheeks go pink. He wasn’t wearing his glasses, which was a pity.

  
“I… hello.” He managed, the cool blue lighting of the club making his skin look ghostly pale and his eyes bright.

  
Ven’fir shot him a crooked grin. “You look like you’re having as much fun as I am.” He observed, and the other man looked awkward. “Which is to say, about as much fun as watching paint dry.”

  
M-something smiled slightly, “I dare say that would be preferable.” He muttered, a note of sourness in his tone. He suddenly looked awkward. “I… ah, sorry I never called. When I finally plucked up the courage to, it was too late.” He admitted.

  
Ven’fir shrugged. “That’s okay.” He said, truthful. “I had hoped you would, but you didn’t leave me sobbing into my Cookie Dough or anything.” He said with a grin, and his companion smiled, the action taking a few years off his face.

  
“Well, it seems like you found me anyway,” the pale man said, shrugging a little. His posture was stiff and proper, and he made even that action seem composed.

  
“I did,” Ven’fir agreed. “By complete accident, of course. I was thinking about how long it will be before I can safely leave.” He admitted. “I’m only here as a favour to a friend. Boosting numbers on opening night, you know?” he nodded. “What about you? No offense, but this doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”

  
The other man seemed to scoff. “You’re right, it isn’t.” he said simply. “I’m here under duress. Stag-do.” He added to clarify. “My brother in law to be.”

  
Ven’fir winced. “Right, and you got left behind? Or did you stage a daring escape?”

  
The sour look told him it was the former. “Not that I enjoyed being dragged around, but I would rather like to stay with the group I arrived with.”

  
Ven’fir sensed it was time to zone in.

  
“Well,” he began. “Why don’t I buy you a drink in the meantime? Their loss.” He offered, charming.

  
M-something gave him a surprisingly penetrating look, despite how pink his cheeks still were.

  
“You know what? Fine.” He said, tossing his head a little. He seemed much less docile now than when Ven’fir had first met him. Maybe it was the anger. “Just a beer, please.”

  
Ven’fir raised a brow. “You can have whatever you like, you know. No judgement here.” He grinned brightly. “I hope that goes two ways, because I have been dying for something sweet. Can I get a…” he hummed and thought for a second, and the bartender waited patiently. “A Corellian Cocktail? Chilled, please.” He nodded. “And for you?” he asked, winningly.

  
M-something seemed taken aback, but eventually gave him a shy smile. “Huttese Hangover.”

  
Ven’fir laughed, delighted. “Perfect.” He beamed, genuinely enjoying himself. He watched the bartender mix their drinks with utmost professionalism. “Wouldn’t have guessed it, but that’s no bad thing.”

  
The other man smiled, looking more at ease. “First drink of the evening and it’s a Hangover? I’m going to die during the night, probably. I hope you’re happy.”  
Ven’fir shrugged, paying for their drinks without listening to the cost. He pushed the lurid green drink towards his companion, making sure not to dislodge the pineapple on the rim.

“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you survive until morning.” He said without thinking.

  
“So, you don’t intend to leave my side until then?” the other man asked, and Ven’fir enjoyed the slightly teasing lilt to his voice.

Ven’fir tilted his head and offered his drink, shimmering golden with purple sugar around the rim, and a sparkly umbrella in it.

They clinked glasses, and each took a sip.

  
“Would you object?” Ven’fir asked, aiming for flirty but sounding a little too serious to hit that mark. “Damn, this is nice.” He muttered under his breath, glancing at his drink.

  
The other man was about to reply when a hand descended on his shoulder, and he jumped, somehow not spilling his drink.

  
“That had better be a mocktail, _Malavai_.” Came a booming voice, cheery but with surprisingly little warmth.

  
_Malavai_. That was it.

  
Malavai seemed to grind his teeth as a huge man came up behind him, grinning. The man, his hair a shock of red and his ruddy cheeks crimson with alcohol, was loud.

  
“You’re the DD tonight, yeah? So, stay sober.”

  
Malavai raised an eyebrow, clearly annoyed. “I am? Who decided that?” he asked, irritable. “And why did no one tell me?” he demanded. “Pierce, I am perfectly capable of being your designated driver, but only when people _tell_ me beforehand.”

  
Pierce seemed to laugh again, booming and dismissive. “Like you were going to let us get home by ourselves, pissed off our faces.” He snorted, ignoring Ven’fir.

  
“I may just do that.” Malavai threatened.

  
Pierce frowned. “C’mon Quinn, don’t be like that. What, are we interrupting your night of excitement?” he mocked. “We’re ready to move on now, leave your girly drink and this fairy who’s chatting you up and help us get Broonmark off the floor.” He grumbled, and Ven’fir realised the ‘fairy’ they were talking about was him. He was about to introduce the mans face to his fist when Malavai grabbed his Huttese Hangover, and, looking the picture of spite, downed it.

  
He set the glass on the bar with a little more force than necessary, and shot the most superior, nasty looking sneer at the ginger man as he wiped his mouth. “Oops.” He said, voice so innocent a jury would have convicted him on it alone. His eyes were narrowed and mean. “Guess I’m over the limit now. _Get a cab_.”

  
Pierce looked dumbfounded, and his expression soured. “You fucking _asshole_.” He grunted and made to leave. “God, no wonder no one can stand you.” He bit out, marching back the way he came.

  
Malavai seemed to be furious, but when he shot Ven’fir a glance it was embarrassed and apologetic. “Sorry,” he said, quick and awkward. “I… I probably should go and get them their cab… I shouldn’t have done that. Sorry.”

  
“That,” Ven’fir declared. “Was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Fuck ‘em, let me buy you another.” He said, eager.

  
Malavai seemed surprised and unsure. “That was strong,” he muttered, and swallowed. “Can I get some water instead please?” he asked, shy again. Ven’fir wondered why he felt the need to do that. He had just seen what a firecracker he obviously could be, and Ven’fir didn’t doubt Malavai was nasty piece of work when he was angry.

  
A glass of water later, Malavai was feeling the cocktail he had downed, as well as several more Ven'fir had pushed his way. His cheeks were pink, and he was smiling more, buzzed. Ven’fir was feeling the buzz too, and it was nice. They sat side by side, knees touching as they chatted. The flirting took over the conversation, and Ven’fir hadn’t had this much fun in a long time. Malavai wasn’t a particularly good flirt, but he was quick and clever and he gave as good he got in their verbal sparring.

  
“You know,” he began, voice as low as it could get in the club. “I kinda want to take you home.”

  
Malavai’s eyes were wide and he seemed very surprised, and Ven’fir couldn’t help but wonder what he had expected. “I… you do?” he asked dumbly.

  
Ven’fir nodded. “Yeah. You’re… well, you’re fun, and you’re really hot.” He grinned. “Even if you don’t have your glasses on.”

  
Malavai blushed. “Contacts.” He muttered. “I’m not fun.” He assured, “Or hot. I think you have beer goggles on.” He tried to joke, but it fell flat.

  
Ven’fir shook his head. “Well, I think you are, and that’s what matters, right?” he tried to explain, his brain too caught up with booze and thoughts of those legs wrapped around his waist. “You could look like the back end of a fucking bus and if I thought you were hot and still wanted you, what else matters?” he rambled, and Malavai seemed to blink, confused.

“Point is,” he brought the conversation back around. “I like you. So, a proposition.” He grinned. “We go back to my place, I introduce you to my cats, we get a bottle of wine out and then we fuck until we can’t fuck anymore.” He offered, leaning close enough to catch the scent of soap and faint cologne. “Then we can have breakfast and I’ll ask you on a proper date, yeah? Oh, and we can do it all thinking about how annoyed that prick with the carrot hair will be when he finds out that you ditched him.” He said, amused.

  
That startled a laugh out of Malavai, who seemed to be considering the idea. He looked interested, at least. Interested and reckless. “I…” he trailed off, pink cheeked. “Yeah. Yeah, okay.” He murmured, awkward. “I must warn you, I don’t do this kind of thing often. Or ever, really. I’m going to mess it up.”

  
Ven’fir shook his head. “Thanks for the pre-warning, but I think we’ve done just fine so far.” He assured. “So, ready? I really want to get my hands on you.”

  
Malavai went red. “You have no shame.” He muttered, reaching for his coat, prim. “None at all.”

  
Ven’fir leered and as the man turned to shrug on his jacket, he pressed up behind him, his mouth by the other man’s ear, and his hands demurely on his waist. He felt Malavai hitch a breath, feeling Ven’fir's hips press into his backside.

  
“You are so right,” Ven’fir murmured, mouth brushing the shell of his ear. “You okay with that?”

  
Malavai swallowed, and then shifted his hips in such a way that could have been accidental, but the slight arching of his back that made certain areas press back into the man behind him certainly wasn’t.

“Yeah. Straightforward, I can deal with that.” He murmured. “I like straightforward.”

  
Ven’fir chuckled and let him go. “Alright. Let’s go and fuck until we can’t walk, and then maybe do it again in the morning. I hope you don’t have anywhere to be or anyone expecting you home, because they are going to be disappointed.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ven has got SKILLS.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Malavai is a weak, weak man.

Malavai smiled, a little excited and a little shy as the cold air hit them, and they headed for the taxi rank a few meters away. They were early enough that it wasn’t busy, and that was a small mercy.

  
“I have a phone. If it’s that desperate, they can call me.” He assured. “But they won’t, not after I abandoned them.”

  
Ven’fir got the impression he didn’t often get to say ‘no’ very often, and he was enjoying the rush. He grinned, leering shamelessly as Malavai ducked to get into the back of the cab.

  
The man had legs that went on forever, and Ven couldn’t wait to have them wrapped around his waist.

  
The cab drive back was surprisingly innocent. Ven’fir kept his hand on his companions’ knee, and it surreptitiously moved up to his thigh as they went over a speed bump. Malavai gave him a look, pink cheeked and slightly amused, but didn’t make him move his hand.

  
“Where do you live? Far?” he asked, looking out of the window, trying to see anything he recognised. The city was sprawling, but it was familiar. It was a grey city, splashes of silver and a smudge of purple from the apparently perpetually stormy sky. The tingle in the air, the smell of fresh ozone and petrichor had been something he had sorely missed when he was away.

  
Ven’fir shook his head. “I have an apartment near the centre.” He admitted. “Nice views, even with all the rain.”

  
Malavai raised his eyebrows. “Really? Must have cost a bit.” He murmured. “It’s extortionate anywhere in this city.” He smiled. “I like the rain though.”

  
Ven’fir chuckled. “Well, it looks like it’s raining now.”

He leaned closer, his moth almost brushing the shell of his companions’ ear. “Maybe we could take our fun by the big windows?” he murmured, voice low. He felt Malavai shiver. “I could fuck you against one.”

  
The older man went red. “And have the whole city see? No thank you.” He muttered, shifting in his seat. That should not have been as appealing as it was.

His brain was still processing the idea that he was going home with a guy he'd met at the bar, with the intention of sleeping with him. That was _not_ something Malavai Quinn _did_. Fun, confident people did that, not Malavai. Malavai stayed at home and graded coursework, worked on his own research papers and avoided his neighbours.

  
Ven’fir grinned. “Well, how about the other way around? You could do me against one instead.”

  
The look he got from Malavai was surprised, and he shrugged.

“What? I’m an equal opportunities kind of guy, most of the time.” He leered. “Why, don’t you want to do me?”

  
Malavai’s shoulders were tense, his pupils blown wide in the dim light. “Most men like you wouldn’t even think about offering that.” He pointed out. An image of the man beside him came to find, beautifully naked and panting as Malavai- No, stop thinking. _Stop_.

  
“Men like me?” he asked, curious. Malavai flushed.

“You know, confident, bold ones.” He muttered. “You do come across very… alpha-male, you know?”

  
Ven’fir raised his eyebrows, amused. “Do I really?” he asked, laughing. “My friend Vette described me as a ‘gym-rat frat-boy’ once, but I don’t really know what that’s supposed to mean.” He admitted. “I went to university, but we didn’t have fraternities.”

  
Malavai shook his head. “Your friend isn’t from around here, then?” he asked, smiling. “We don’t have them here. At least, no university I’ve been to has.”

  
“Sounds like you’ve been at a few.” Ven’fir pointed out. “How many?”

  
Malavai seemed to shrug, awkward. “Just a few.” He said, evasive. “You don’t want to hear about that, I’m sure.”

  
Ven’fir frowned. “I asked, didn’t I?” he defended, and Malavai ducked his head.

People tended to get uncomfortable when he mentioned his qualifications and how many places he had studied at. He didn’t know if it was jealousy or if it was just a social faux-pas on his part to answer honestly. The mention of two doctorates was usually enough to invite mockery and ridicule anywhere outside the staff room, so he tried to keep quiet about it. He felt like he wasn’t allowed to be proud of his accomplishments to made others feel better about themselves, and that _hurt_. His only vice in that regard was keeping the ‘Dr.’ At the start of his name. It felt a bit like the smallest ‘fuck you’, so he used it even if it had got him into trouble before.

  
“Sorry,” he mumbled. “Most people don’t like me talking about my job.”

  
“Jealous, then.” Ven’fir shrugged, “Fuck them, their opinions clearly don’t matter.”

  
Malavai looked at him in wonder. “You make it sound so easy,” he said, rueful. He wished or were so simple. Maybe for Ven’fir, it was. He got the impression the man was used to getting his way.

  
He smiled, the action crinkling the corners of his eyes. “So, what did you study?”

  
Ven’fir suddenly looked a little sheepish. “Uh, business studies.” He admitted. “I chose the most useful thing I could think of that sort of sounded interesting. I didn’t really want to go, if I’m honest. Family made me.” He chuckled. “Just about scraped by.”

  
Malavai sighed. “So many people doing courses they don’t want to do. It’s sad.” He said, his voice gaining passion. Ven’fir liked it. “I always have a few students drop out every year because they got pressured into studying maths by their parents. It’s not fair on them or their classmates.”

  
Ven’fir smirked. “I think If I had had a lecturer like you, I would have showed up more often,” he purred, pressing closer.

  
Malavai couldn’t help a smile. “I’ll bet that you were one of the ones who caused trouble,” he murmured back, eyes lingering on how the younger man was sprawled out in the back of the car, his clothes hiding just enough shape to leave him wanting to touch.

“Bet you talked in class and flirted with your lecturer and turned your coursework in late.” He teased, and Ven’fir laughed lowly.

  
Malavai liked that sound. It was husky enough to leave him weak at the knees, and it made his eyes crinkle at the corners. His mind, traitorous, conjured the image of his office. Ven’fir was there, and the younger man had him hemmed in and panting against his mouth as they ground together on his desk.

  
“How can you tell?” he asked, amused and relaxed. Malavai was so close he could feel the warmth from the other man’s body.

  
Malavai shot him an amused look. “Just a feeling I’m getting from you, can’t _imagine_ what’s causing it.” He muttered, sarcasm strong. “Certainly not how you talked me into letting you take me home, ditching the people I came with and downing a Huttese Hangover in one go.”

  
Ven’fir gave him a charming, crooked grin. “Didn’t take much talking for you to say yes.” He teased, and Malavai flushed.

  
“Yes, well.” He coughed. “Perhaps I needed to do something like this. I’ve always been rather boring,” he said lightly, although there was an undercurrent of hurt in his tone. “Dull, staid. Maybe I must do something fun eventually. Law of averages, and all that.” He muttered.

Ven’fir leaned in to nuzzle the side of his neck, breathing in the scent of soap and some faint aftershave. Malavai's breath caught.

  
“Well, let’s make tonight extra fun, to make up for it?” he offered, “And maybe in the morning we can talk about perhaps making this a regular thing. Your regular allocation of fun, one might say.” He grinned.

  
Malavai tried to hide a smile and failed. He leaned into the touch and sighed. “I’d like that.” He breathed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ven is the biggest jock, I swear. 
> 
> And Mal is the biggest nerd.
> 
> It's like all those high school romance movies except 20 years older and way more gay.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after the night before.

It was an odd feeling, not waking up in your own bed. Malavai Quinn could safely say he didn’t spend much time in beds that weren’t his, and even less time in beds that weren’t his and were still occupied.

  
Although, he admitted silently, waking up without his alarm clock blaring in his ear was nice.

  
He took a breath and shifted, letting his mind dislodge itself from the cling of sleep. He yawned and stretched, feeling his back pop and an ache make itself apparent.

He felt himself flush and squashed the instinct to move again. He could hear breathing and the gentle tap of fingers on a screen, and he flushed deeper as he remembered all the things he had done with the man next to him in this very bed.

  
He felt embarrassed at how he had acted, how easily his carefully maintained aloofness had crumbled under a handsome smile and some not-so-subtle come-ons.

  
He had _begged_. He wanted to curl up in a ball and die, right now. He had… well, he had done things he hadn’t done since he was a student, and some things he was pretty sure he’d only seen on the internet.

  
He had let Ven’fir do a lot of things he would never have dreamed of. Well, ‘let’ might not have been the right word. He had practically begged him, wanton and half-drunk on booze and lust and _freedom_. He felt dirty, but that didn’t leave a nasty taste of guilt in his mouth. He felt used, dirty and… good.

A sudden wave of nausea overtook him at the thought that Ven’fir might have only been doing this as a joke, and Malavai had taken him so seriously! How embarrassing. Was it already over the internet by now? Oh gods, what if the university saw?! With practised ease, he ruthlessly shut down that line of thinking, before it escalated into shakes and trouble breathing. He sighed and shifted.

  
The feeling of cool fabric on his skin was nice, but reminded him that underneath the sheets, he was _very_ naked. He sighed and shifted to sit up, making sure those sheets didn’t betray him.

  
“Good morning,” he murmured quietly, and Ven’fir smiled at him. Malavai felt his stomach do a fluttery thing at how the younger man grinned, sporting a fetching bed-head.

  
“Hey,” Ven’fir greeted, unapologetically letting his eyes move over him. Malavai felt naked and remembered that he was. He blushed.

“Good sleep?” the other man asked pleasantly. He was holding a tablet in one hand, and it laid on his sheet covered lap. From the where he was, Malavai could see the morning news on the screen.

  
He nodded. “Yes, thank you.” He murmured, unsure. Moron, he thought to himself. You certainly weren’t unsure last night, when he had you with your ass in the air, face pressed into those fancy pillows as you moaned like a whore. No sense in being demure _now_.

  
He shivered as he remembered a hand fisting his hair and pulling his head back to bare his throat, keeping his back arched as the younger man fucked him. He had liked that. He swallowed painfully and aimed a shy smile at his bed partner.

“That’s to be expected, you wore me out.” He said, searching for something. Ven’fir didn’t seem to notice, as he grinned laviciously, wiggling his eyebrows.

  
“Yeah,” he agreed, pleased like the cat who had gotten the cream. “We were energetic last night. Fuck, that was so _good_.” He moaned, exaggerating biting his lip and stretching like contented cat.

  
He aimed a sly look at Malavai, setting his tablet on the bedside table. He settled on his side, sheets draping over one hip as he propped himself up on an elbow. His smile softened, and he moved forward to press a close-mouthed kiss to a surprised Malavai, who accepted it without complaint.

He stayed close, eyes lidded and cheeks flushed.

“Want to do it again?”

  
Malavai felt his own breath hitch, and his gaze flickered down to the mans mouth, curved in a lopsided, inviting grin.

  
“I… I think I might go for a shower first.” He muttered, awkward. Ven’fir grinned wider, amused.

  
“Sure, I feel a bit ‘eww’ as well,” he yawned. “Want to take one together? I have a big bathroom, and I want to suck you off in the shower.” He said as though he was talking about the weather. “And then maybe get you to fuck me against the tiles.”

  
Malavai had never met someone so shameless. He bit his lip, fighting a smile. He kind of liked it.  
“I… yeah.” He managed, quiet. “Yeah, that sounds good.”

  
Ven’fir laughed, boisterous and suddenly full of energy. “Of course, it does. Come on then,” he said as he rolled out of bed, completely naked.

  
Malavai let his eyes wander, and he felt a pleased smile cross his face, his cheeks heating up. That had been his. Absently taking the sheets with him as he followed the other man, he felt something swell in his chest. It had been a long time since he had had so much _fun_.

* * *

It was on shaky legs that Malavai followed an equally exhausted Ven’fir to his kitchen-diner for a late breakfast. The man’s apartment was huge and obviously expensive, considering it was in the middle of the city, where house prices were obscene. A tiny tortoiseshell cat snoozed on an elaborate looking cat tree in the corner, and pots and pans hung from a rack over a marble topped island.

  
That was irrelevant though, when Malavai could only think of how good life was right now. That nagging uncertainty was there, but that was a permanent fixture in his life. He sat down on a fancy bar stool that probably cost more than his car, and watched Ven’fir amble around the kitchen, creating something that looked suspiciously like omelette.

  
Malavai raised his eyebrows. “Toast is fine,” he assured. “Please, no need to-“

  
Ven’fir waved a hand. “Nah, I always have a proper breakfast. I need it, I usually go to the gym beforehand ” He grinned.

  
“Well,” the older man said with a small smile. “I can’t say I’m not hungry.”

  
“Worked up an appetite, didn’t we?” Ven’fir finished, nodding as he chopped mushrooms. Malavai, entirely uncomfortable with being waited on, stood up and began to help. Ven’fir looked surprised.

  
“You don’t need to help,” he began, but chuckled. “But I can see you’re the kind of man to agree, and then do it anyway, right?”

  
Malavai felt a grin escape and said nothing.

  
Ven’fir laughed. “You know, I haven’t enjoyed someone’s company as much as yours in ages.” He said lightly, as if that was so easy to admit. Maybe it was, Malavai had no idea. He wouldn’t have been able to admit anything like that. He was flattered though, but the uncertainty was growling away in his stomach, louder.

  
“Are you sure it’s not because I let you screw me?” he asked, cheeks pink. He sighed, passing the peppers he had finished slicing. “I am a little too old for you.”  
Ven’fir frowned. “No, I don’t think that’s it.” He said, shaking his head. “I mean, you’re a fantastic lay, you really are, but that’s not it.”

  
Malavai flushed. Well, that was a compliment he had never gotten before in his life.

  
“Besides, you’re what, thirty-four, thirty-five? That’s not terrible.” Ven’fir teased, a smile creeping into his expression. Malavai felt his stomach drop.

  
“Ahh, think higher numbers.” He mumbled, awkward. What if this was it? What if Ven’fir had genuinely thought he was closer to his own age, and wouldn’t that be horribly embarrassing?

  
Ven’fir blinked. “Thirty-six?” he hedged and looked flabbergasted when Malavai shook his head and pointed up.

  
“Forty?” he asked, wide eyed.

  
Malavai cringed. “Thirty nine.” He muttered. “Don’t tell me you’re actually nineteen or something.”

  
The younger man shook his head. “Twenty-nine.” He said simply, pausing. “Fuck, you look good for your age.” He marvelled. “And you’re fit for a guy behind a desk.”

  
Malavai wanted the posh granite kitchen tiles to swallow him up and end this awkward suffering.

“Former military.” he mumbled and flushed when he saw Ven’fir raise his eyebrows. “I can’t stand to be idle. And I go rock climbing.” He added, rueful. “Although these days it’s only at the wall at the centre.”

  
“Military? No shit.” Ven’fir seemed impressed. “That’s awesome.” He nodded, grinning.

  
He left the omelette sizzling and moved to wrap his arms loosely around the older man, who almost jumped.

  
“So, I like you.” Ven’fir said bluntly, a small smile on his lips. “Want to get dinner with me, as in a date?”

  
Malavai blinked at him, honestly taken aback.

  
“I… you want to go on a date with me?” the unspoken ‘_but why_?’ hung in the air. “Really?”

  
Ven’fir nodded. “Yeah, really. I’m not a complicated man. I like you. You check all my boxes.” He grinned. “Fun, good in bed, clever, sweet, kinky... Also, I think you’re a seriously hot piece of arse.” He winked, moving his hands down to grab a handful. Malavai jumped, flushing. “What do you say, want to give it a go?”

Malavai floundered a little.

  
Ven'fir noticed the hesitation and his expression softened.

  
“There’s no strings, you know.” He murmured, his hold steady on Malavai's hips. “If it doesn’t work out, it doesn’t work out. I’m not asking you to marry me, or anything. Just a date.”

  
He gave a soft, lopsided smile. Malavai liked how his smile wasn’t perfect. It was crooked and boyish, and it made his eyes crinkle at the corners.

  
His mind was awhirl, but one thought surfaced above the current. Why not? It could end badly, was all he could come up with. Crises, he could deal with.

Things always went to shit anyway, why not reap some benefits before they did?

Some tiny kernel of _something_ that hadn't been crushed by a cynic's view of the world piped up with a burst of hope, and it made his stomach flutter.

  
He nodded, feeling a little shy and giddy. “Yeah,” he murmured, moving one hand to cup the other mans jaw, prickly with one day’s stubble. He smiled, wider and kissed him, slow and warm. “Let’s.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Mal, just let the man spoil you.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vette is a good friend.

One dinner date turned into another, which turned into several more. Several more turned into movie nights at either of their homes, with each one trying to get the other to watch their favourites. Ven’fir was an action kind of guy, although he had a soft spot for historical movies and certain romances. Malavai liked thrillers, and a good sci-fi. Both hated romantic comedies with a passion, and both loved terrible movies.

Malavai was currently winning with ‘The Sand' which had had them both breathless with laughter at the terrible plot.

  
The dates gave way to a weekend or two away, which merged into a holiday somewhere hot and foreign. Ven’fir was an outdoorsy man and was utterly relieved that Malavai was as interested in going hiking with him as he was nosing around the city and museums. Sometimes they split up to do their own thing, meeting back up at the hotel for dinner.

Malavai had smiled at him, shy and pleased, and ordered their food in the local language, having tried to learn it before he arrived. Ven’fir had decided right then, that he was in love.

  
Then, before either of them knew it, it had been a year.

  
Currently, they were catching their breath, Ven’fir absently trailing his fingers down his lovers back as they came off their shared high. He felt Malavai squirm and grinned, knowing the older man wanted to be clean and dry for cuddling. He dragged his nails down Malavai’s spine and felt the man shiver and sigh.

  
“You know,” Ven’fir began, grinning like the cat who had gotten the cream. “I would never guess you’d be such a filthy who- “

  
An elbow jabbed his side, and he twitched, jumping in surprise. Malavai glared at him, cheeks pink.

  
“Don’t say it. You know I hate it when you say those things.”

  
Ven’fir felt smugness settle on his face. “You only hate it after we’re done.” He pointed out, “You like me talking dirty when we’re fucking.”

  
The lover flushed, and his mouth pursed, but he didn’t deny it. “Be quiet,” he muttered.

  
Ven’fir chuckled, pressing a kiss to damp hair. “Nah, you know it’s only for fun. It’s good fortune that I like of your kinks, and you seem to be okay with mine too.”

  
Malavai gave him a look. “Well, it’s not like I didn’t have time to get used to them.” He said flatly, “You started talking about them on our second date.”

  
Ven’fir nodded. “Mmhm, at least I didn’t bust them out on the first date,” he pointed out. “Because I’m classy like that.”

  
Malavai looked supremely unconvinced. “Yes, ‘_classy_’.” He repeated, his accent making the words sound even more sarcastic the they were. Ven’fir could just hear the quotation marks.

  
“Well, you still need me to pick you up at two?” Venfir asked, stifling a yawn.

  
Malavai nodded, arching his back and wincing at the pop. “Yeah, my car is still in the garage.” He sighed. “Looks like it’s more than faulty electrics, it might be the DPF.”

  
Ven’fir raised a brow. “Sounds… uh, bad?” he offered. All he knew was that his car had four wheels, needed to be filled up when the needle dropped downwards, and taken in when the yellow light was on.

Sometimes, he even remembered to check the oil and water.

  
His lover snorted, amused. “And expensive.” He supplied dryly. “So yes, if you wouldn’t mind.”

  
Ven’fir grinned, and leaned over to catch Malavai in a kiss, warm and slow. “I’ll be there.” He promised.

* * *

Malavai wasn’t really thinking much as he packed his notes away, his last lecture having just finished. There was another one due after him, so he hurriedly collected his things before heading to the staff room to sort some papers.

  
He had always liked the staff room, as it was generally quiet, and was a pleasant place to get something caffeinated and do a bit of work.

  
He was drawn into small talk with the psychology professor and the archaeology professor, his absent replies not deterring them from including him. Jaesa, the psychology lecturer, was a nice woman, if a little hard to read. She was pretty and rather young for a member of staff, and Malavai was sure that was half the reason her lectures were full every day.

  
Looking up at the battered clock, he noticed the time and felt a pang of surprise. “Sorry,” he began, “But I have to get going.”

  
“Doing anything nice?” the archaeology professor asked, pleasantly, ordering notecards as he pretended to be uninterested. Talos Drellik was one of the few real friends Malavai had, even if he could be rather excitable. Not that he knew it, but Quinn was a subject of interest among the staff, being so private and yet apparently so interesting. He had been on the staff for years, but no one seemed to know anything substantial about him.

  
Malavai managed a tight smile.

“Nothing exciting. My car’s being fixed, so I’m getting a lift home.” He answered absently, checking his bag to make sure he had everything. Things left in the staff room were not usually found again.

  
“Is your girlfriend picking you up?” Jaesa asked, making small talk with a small, sly smile.

  
He looked up, surprised. He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Boyfriend, actually.” He said carefully, tone short. Admitting that had taken the best part of a year. Ven’fir had been instrumental, usually by being so overly handsy, one couldn’t escape from the fact he was with another man.

  
He wasn’t _ashamed_, absolutely not. He just despised the stupid questions that almost always followed. It was, frankly, none of anyone’s business but his who he was dating, and he didn’t feel the need to tell everyone.

  
His two co-workers were looking at him in surprise, and he had the sudden urge to be angry. Was it so odd? In this day and age? They didn’t seem upset though, which he supposed was a good sign.

  
“What’s his name?” Jaesa asked, her brows raised. “I don’t think you’ve ever mentioned him.”

  
Malavai shrugged, feeling awkward and jittery. He fiddled with the strap of his bag, full to bursting with papers and books.

“Ven’fir.” He supplied shortly. “And I don’t suppose I have. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  
With that, he made his escape, praising himself for not running away.

  
When he was gone, the psychology professor took a sip of her cold coffee, just as surprised as her friend.

“You know…” she began. “You can see the main gate from here.”

  
The professors shared a look, and quickly crowded around the large windows that overlooked the campus entrance. The staff room was on the top floor of the main building, a large concrete block with labyrinthine corridors and unintelligible room numbering systems. It’s only virtue was its excellent position, perfectly suited for spying on the courtyard.

  
“I can’t see him.” The archaeology professor complained, craning his neck. He was a short man, and his companion’s extra inches were giving her an advantage. “I bet he’s gone to one of the other gates.”

  
“No, by the benches.” The psychology professor pointed out, narrowing her eyes behind her glasses. “I think that’s him.”

  
“Where-? Oh, you’re right.” He muttered. “He was wearing that shade of grey.”

  
They watched the small figure of their co-worker cross the courtyard, heading for the main gate. The campus didn’t back out onto a main road, and the traffic got horrendous when lectures let out for the day. Thankfully, it was quiet in the middle of the afternoon, and they could see a figure in dark clothing leaning casually against a black sports car, it’s roof dropped back to take full advantage of the sunshine. It looked fast, shiny and expensive.

  
They watched in interest as the figure straightened, moving to intercept the dark-haired man they were spying on. The two embraced, obviously close, and the psychology professor made an ‘aww’ sound as they two shared a kiss.

  
“That’s… actually kind of sweet.” Jaesa muttered, watching them drive away.

  
“What is?” a voice asked, stifling a yawn. Talos turned with an eyebrow raised and levelled a look at his student. Vette was in the PhD programme, although she was far more interested in practical matters than academic ones. She was a student lecturer and frequented the staff room when she was bored or wanted to con someone into doing her lesson plans for her.

  
“Dr Quinn's boyfriend.” Jaesa supplied, tone flat. “We just found out.”

  
Vette raised an eyebrow, her expression weirded out. “Who’s boyfriend? Don’t think I’ve met her in here.”

  
Talos nodded. “He does keep to himself,” he admitted. “He lectures on mathematics, he’s been a part of the staff for a while. Since he left the military, I think.” He mused, absently minded.

  
Vette huffed. “Jarhead?”

  
“Former army medic.” Jaesa corrected, “Not that that is relevant, Ce'na. We were just curious, I don’t think I’ve ever heard him say anything about his relationships before.”

  
Talos smiled, the lines around his eyes crinkling. “I’m happy for him.” He announced, “That man needs something besides paperwork to do.”

  
“You mean, _someone_ besides paperwork to do.” Vette grinned, “Eh, whatever. Hey Jaesa, could you look over my lesson plans?”

* * *

“Vette, you _need_ to help me.”

  
Ven’fir was close to tearing his hair out, and considering how much money he spent on it, he would rather avoid the follicle damage.

  
His best-friend gave him a flat, unimpressed look, clearly not buying his desperation.

  
“With?” she drawled, arms crossed, and one brow raised.

  
Ven’fir paced in front of her, aware that he must look a bit weird, considering he had dragged her out into the city and was raving in the middle of the high street.

  
“I wanna ask Mal to marry me, but I dunno what kind of ring he would want. Or how to ask him. Or when to ask him.” He said in a rush, and he watched as the other eyebrow joined the first one.

  
“You’ve not been with him that long,” she said, measured. “And I’ve not even met him yet. How would I know what some guy wants?”

  
Ven’fir shrugged. “I’m not trying to keep you away from him,” he assured, “It just seemed to work out that way. You’ve been out of the country for months and then him and I were on holiday, and then you were busy with your coursework and he was busy with grading whatever the fuck he grades for whatever the fuck he teaches, and… you know. Shit.”

  
He felt miserable and stressed.

  
He didn’t _get_ stressed. He didn’t like the feeling.

  
Vette seemed to take pity on him and sighed, rolling her eyes. “Come on, dork-lord.” She muttered. “Let’s get a coffee and we can talk about it, yeah?”

  
He nodded, a little pathetic and grateful. “Yeah. Yeah, that sounds good.”

  
When they were sat on overstuffed, squishy sofas and had their respective drinks, Vette looked him over, apparently curious.

  
“You’re genuinely worried about this.” She marvelled. “You care about this guy.”

  
Ven’fir nodded miserably. “I love him,” he admitted. “Like, seriously love him.” He shrugged helplessly. “Hence the marrying thing. He’s fucking perfect, you know?”

  
She snorted, sipping her latte. “I don’t know, because I’ve never met him, have I?”

  
He conceded the point. “Well, do you want to?” he asked, straight to the point. “Because if you do, I can call him right fucking now and ask him to come out to dinner with us.”

  
Vette shrugged. “Let’s talk about the ring sitch first, yeah?” she grinned. “You realise I’m gonna tease the fuck out of you about this. Forever.”

  
He gave her a look and nodded. “I know.” He said dryly. “I would expect nothing less.”

  
Finally inside and settled, Ven'fir ran his hand through his mop of hair, before looking serious, leaning forward and levelling her with a hard expression.

  
“I want that man in a fucking church with a ring on his finger. You’re going to help me.” He said imperiously, and Vette raised an eyebrow, blowing on her Chai latte to cool it.

  
“Am I?”

  
His expression faltered, and he pouted. “Vette,” he whined. “Don’t be a bitch. You always said I should settle down and shit, and now I am. He’s the one, and all that bullcrap.” He waved a hand. “He’s clever and sweet and vicious when he’s pissed and he’s got the bitchiest sense of humour buried deep down and he’s fucking gorgeous.” He said in one breath. “And he’s just the right kind of kinky.”

  
Her confusion showed on her face and he elaborated. “You know, likes handcuffs, getting choked a bit and a smack on the arse now and then, but doesn’t laugh if I fancy it vanilla, and doesn’t need a medieval torture device to get off.”

  
Vette made a face. “Ugh. I did not need to know that.” She muttered. “I want to meet him, you know.”

  
She softened. “Can't very well let my best friend get hitched without scoping them out, right?”

  
Ven’fir’s eyes were wide and his expression was delighted, and Vette couldn’t help but grin.

  
“Aww, I always knew you loved me!” he laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners.

  
Vette snorted into her latte. “That was never in question,” she assured, fond. “I just want to know if he does.”

  
Ven’fir gave a boyish, almost bashful smile. It was unlike him.

  
“So, you’ll help, yeah?” He asked, hopeful.

  
Vette crumbled. She could never say no to her best friend.

  
“Of course I will.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Awww. :')


End file.
